Who needs a reason?
by TheNewHeir
Summary: Being stuffed into dear old Grimmauld Place isn't what Sirius needs or wants. Tensions run high in the cramped house with Order members flitting around the place and loud teenagers butting heads all the time. Sparks fly when your godson has just been attacked by a dementor, and no one seems to care or want to do anything about it. Things were going to change, Sirius vowed.
1. We're different, life's different

Who needs a reason?

Chapter 1: We're different, life's different

Sirius POV:

The summer air engulfed everything within its path, causing the atmosphere to be even more unbearable around Grimmauld Place.

Not to mention the amount of people crammed into all of the rooms, and don't even start with the extra Order members lingering and lulling about the place, seemingly refusing to leave the Headquarters. All of the people and their stupid, uninteresting conversation – which he was excluded from, even if it was to do with the Order, apparently being a wanted criminal on the run, even if you were cooped up in the drabbest house imaginable, made it alright to pretend that he wasn't there – made it even more stiflingly hot. It had to be the hottest summer Sirius had ever experienced.

And to top it off, he was stuck with most of the selfish, arrogant, and annoying people in the world. A.K.A most of the Weasleys. Mainly Molly. She was almost as worse as his banshee, abusive mother for Godric's sake.

Always saying that he needed to listen to Dumbledore – yeah, he's totally the answer to all of my problems. Oh, don't worry Molly, he's my knight in shining armour and I totally don't know that he's stuffing me in here because of my close relationship to Harry. But, no! I have to ignore all the facts that point to one thing about Dumbledore – that he's a massive wanker who decides it's okay to manipulate a child so he could win a war! Of course, I'm going to follow his every word like it's gospel Molly, why wouldn't I? Honestly, that woman is a monster. Not to mention all of the jabs she has at me, saying that I'm not fit to look after Harry since as I've been locked up in Azkaban, rotting away, tearing at my own brain because all of my friends were gone. I mean I was, and still partially am, in a bit of a dark, insane place, but that doesn't mean that I can't look after my godson, thanks.

Remus has been helping me, y'know, getting out of the dark place and slowly creeping back to sanity.

It was hard, when I met Remus again. For all these years, I've known that he would've been alone in life, everyone shutting him away because of his furry little problem. He doesn't deserve it. He's kind, pure, smart, witty, and a friend that everyone needs but doesn't have. He'd never hurt someone, well unless they deserved it. I know that Dumbledore did sort of help him, I mean letting a werewolf in to the school, knowing that he could possibly hurt a member of staff, or even worse, a student (not that Remus would even hurt a fly), and I can't imagine that the Governors were too happy about that particular information that Dumbledore leaped upon them at the start of the school year when they started.

He had to give Dumbledore credit, he stuck up for people when it could benefit him in the future. Growing up to be the perfect Slytherin and pureblood heir meant that you could recognise someone sniffing for blood, for someone to benefit from. He could smell a liar from a mile away without even having to see their treacherous face that normally stank with deception and deceit.

But Remus was different. He knew that Dumbledore was using him; it angered him that he was seen as a pawn to easily be flung across the chessboard, ultimately sealing his fate of death. Having your life in someone else's hands was daunting, Sirius knew that well. His own mother was like that with her abusing him. Dumbledore was also like that, being able to hold something so precious to someone and then ripping it away because you did something they didn't like. Walburga may have hated that wretched man, but she respected him. That was one of the greatest honours in the Black family, to be honoured by the matriarch. And Sirius held very few people in such high esteem; most of them were dead now.

James, Lily, Remus, Harry, Regulus, Hagrid, and surprisingly, Alastor Moody.

That paranoid Auror sure knew when something or someone was amiss. I'm quite surprised that Dumbledore didn't realise that the Moody that was at Hogwarts last year was someone in a disguise. Moody _hated_ Dumbledore with a passion only someone Irish could bear. That man knew his shit.

It really was a short list.

Peter used to be on that list, but then that rat bastard then got himself quickly cut off of that list (literally, I've made the Honourable List a real thing and cut that bitch off of it using a very powerful cutting charm) for his betrayal. It still hurt – the betrayal. It stung more then he thought it would. It hurt like hell every time he thought about it, blinding, searing tears forming at the corners of his eyes, a sharp pang of pain shredding his heart. He was their best friend. How could he do that?

I hastily wiped at my eyes as a soft knock rapped against the old, squeaking door.

"You okay?" Remus spoke softly, head poking round the door, his caring eyes glancing over me, noticing some of the stray tears that escaped my eyes, and timidly walked towards me. His soft hand reached my cheek where he wiped the salty tear away, bringing a strange comfort in knowing that that small gesture meant he was there for me.

"We shouldn't do this." Remus said even softer, gazing in to my eyes after a pause of silence, a knowing look across his face, hand now caressing my cheek.

I peered back at him and replied hopefully, "No one's here to know anything."

That made Remus sigh, annoyed at the fact that I'm right. He leaned down closer to me, faces just inches from each other as I caught his hips, earning a small yelp from him and an embarrassed flush bloom across his cheeks as I dragged him to sit in my lap, faces now even closer together.

"We really shouldn't," Remus tried to reason with himself before I, not even thinking about any sort of consequences, nearly closed the distance between us. Nearly.

Remus jumped from my lap and stood awkwardly, hands fiddling with his jumper sleeve – a jumper that Sirius got for him the Christmas when Harry was born – as he mumbled something unintelligible before sprinting out of the open door, leaving me in a shocked state.

I ran a hand through my long hair, now knowing that I needed to wash it, before I berated myself for trying to kiss the damn cute werewolf.

 _It's different from school, you utter twat Sirius. We're different. Life's different. Harry's not a little baby sitting on your lap whilst you and his Uncle Moony quickly kiss for the photo Lily was taking, Harry trying to grab her long, flowing red hair. Get your shit together Sirius, you're both proper adults now…well, you might not act like one, but in theory you both are, so don't act like you're both randy teenagers that don't even know what love means. You don't really know what it means until you've lost it,_ I thought sadly, dragging myself off of my comfy, red bed as I heard that bloody banshee-like yell about dinner being ready. I trudged down the creaky stairs as Hermione beamed up at me.

"Finally decided to come down?" She teased, her smile widening as he teased her back.

They had created a bond since he had been told about one of her shining moments when she set Snivellus on fire. She's a good girl that one, knows what she's doing in life. Hermione's good for Harry. Wouldn't make a bad match them two. Though I'm not sure if Harry's into girls. Of course, I wouldn't know. I've not been around Harry long as Molly keeps lovingly pointing out.

"Decided that the house was made brighter by your presence, so I thought I'd come see Her Grace for myself." He smirked at her as she rolled her eyes at his antics when he saw that ginger, freckly boy (Ron, was it?) keep staring at Hermione weirdly. Well, it was probably meant to be a loving look, but on him it looked like someone placed a bug infront of him, and he was strangely interested in it. Definitely not the way to look at a lady.

But Hermione didn't seem to notice or just didn't care for the ghastly look being directed by her as she brushed past him in favour of getting to the kitchen and sitting at the long, wooden, rickety table placed in the centre of the enormous kitchen area. Food already covered most of the entirety of the wood, plates and cutlery barely able to cling on to the surface as Molly appeared from the cooking area of the kitchen with another overflowing plate of food. Annoyingly, it smelt and also tasted delicious.

Hermione sat as close as she could to him, since as he was at the head of the table, and started to pile a respectful amount of food on her plate. However, the same could not be said for Ronald (is that seriously his? Ha. Seriously!). His plate was piled high and some food was falling on to the wood, leaving marks of gravy where some of the succulent meat had landed.

I internally cringed at his manners (mum's good old pureblood traditions and manners still stuck and ingrained in my head then) as the door opened and revealed Remus who obviously came for a nice quiet dinner, he entered a very embarrassed state as he noted that the only seat left was opposite Hermione's, forcing him to sit next to me.

He looked down when I tried to meet his gaze, he instead began to fiddle with his jumper again as he sat down, his eyes still averting mine. I got his notion that he didn't want to talk to me, hell, even acknowledge me apparently!, throughout dinner and so I decided to continue eating the food on my plate whilst conversing with Hermione every so often.

Nothing much happened of the course of the evening, that was until Mr Weasley came bustling into the room, face red from his apparent running, and his breathing shallow. He had a look of pure horror and shock plastered across his features.

"It's Harry," he started, eyes immediately locking with mine as I stood up and accidently knocked the chair over after it had screeched across the floor, shock and anger flowing through me at the news of my godson.

"What's happened?" I asked him directly.

He sat down at the table, face in his hands, causing me to become more distressed as he wouldn't say anything.

"For Merlin's sake man, talk!" I yelled at him, not really thinking about my actions – I just needed to know if Harry was alright.

This seemed to break his dazed state as he looked at me and then everyone else in the room.

"The dementors got him." He said shortly, gulping loudly before the room exploded into chaos. Many people were now stood, just like me, and yelling profanities whilst others were still sat in their chairs, their knuckles turning white as cream because of them holding the sides of the chair so tightly.

The chaos ensued for another ten minutes before Dumbledore (oh, joy) appeared, out of nowhere (well, it was from the fireplace), and settled everyone with a few blasts of his wand.

"Settle down everyone," he spoke in his usual grandfather demeanour and twinkle in his eyes very present as he scanned over us all. His eyes landed on me, making me want to throttle the man as he, like Arthur, probably wasn't going to say anything very important at first. "It appears that dementors reached Little Whinging and then reached Privet Drive, attacking both Harry and his cousin Dudley." He finished solemnly, face long and eyes downcast.

My blood ran cold at his words, fear and terrible memories of those…ominous cloaks of death that stank of fear flooded my mind. I slumped back in my chair, the weight of everything pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breath. I felt Remus move his hand so that it fell upon my thigh where he squeezed it reassuringly. I felt a little better at his action so I gave him a small smile of thanks whilst Hermione eyed us both and raised her eyebrows at me when I finally turned to see her.

I shrugged my shoulders at her, earning me an eye roll, before I turned my attention back to the Headmaster, who was now sorting out a plan to bring Harry here.

"If we bring him here tomorrow-" Dumbledore started, talking between Mrs Weasley and Moody.

"Tomorrow?" I questioned, a frustrated edge to my tone, "He's back with those muggles, who will hate him, after a traumatising event, and you're just gonna stand there and make it seem that it's alright to leave him there, alone without any sort of contact with anyone, till tomorrow, when he'll be angry because you thought that it would be a good idea to leave him with those magic hating muggles!" I accused, my finger pointing at Dumbledore. I could feel Remus hovering beside me, his hand slowly inching towards my one on the table. I looked at the man beside me before I stormed out of the room as the old coot of a man tried to speak to me.

My thoughts whirring with anger and determination, I hadn't realised that I'd climbed the stairs and had slammed the door, before I, apparently, began to punch the wall, making my knuckles turn crimson because of the blood dripping down my hands. I somehow couldn't stop my fists from colliding with the beaten wall, making it an even deeper red than it was before. Anger poisoned my blood that pumped through my veins, the searing anger electrifying my thoughts and actions, making them volatile and destructive. A sharp adrenalin pierced through my mind, spurring my fists on, almost like they were in a trance and whatever I did couldn't stop them from expressing my pure, blistering rage.

Eventually, the adrenalin rush crashed and my hands cramped up as the pain flooded my hands, a disgruntled noise leaving me. A comforting hand wrapped around my bleeding knuckles with a damp cloth entwined between those hands he knew so well. I looked up to find a watery smile on Remus's face. A pained cry escaped my lips as he tried to stop the flow and clean up the already drying blood.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He spoke softly to me, concentrating on wiping off the cherry-red substance coating my pale hands, showing a stark contrast between them.

"I know." I said just as softly, looking up at him with thanks as he took away the bloodied cloth to reveal my now snow white hands. "Thanks." I mumbled.

I sighed gently as I flopped on to my bed, Remus following me and sitting properly on the bedding.

I peered at the man next to me as a brilliant (some would say it was stupid and irrational) idea formed in my head, adrenalin gushing back into my mind at the thought of the plan.

"What if we took him?" I asked Remus, trying to be discreet and innocent.

"Took whom?" He inquired properly, astute and wondering gaze focused on me.

"Harry of course!" I grinned at him, a mischievous look in my eyes, conveying exactly what I was thinking.

"No! No! No! We are not kidnapping Harry!" He told me firmly, getting up off the bed and facing me, lips stretched in a thin line.

I gave him the best puppy dog eyes I could, and watched his mask crumbled as he finally let out a frustrated huff as he caved in.

"Fine," I jumped up, elated at the prospect of getting my godson back, "but, we need to think out a plan, and a good one at that. Instead of kidnapping him," my face dropped at that, crestfallen, as Remus gave me a pointed look, "we're going to let the Order get him, bring him back here, and then we'll start helping him."

"And by helping him you mean get him away from that old, wrinkly Headmaster, and finally getting custody of him?" I asked hopefully. At Remus's nod, I pounced on him and engulfed him in a hug, both of us laughing as we fell on to the floor, a loud thud resounding through the worn, rickety halls of the house.

We were going to get our Harry back.


	2. I don't blame him

Who needs a reason?

Chapter 2: I don't blame him

Voldemort's POV:

A dark gloom of unease and depression clung to everything in its path. It clung to the furniture, the people. The only source of light was surprisingly coming from an unwanted guest that intruded Lucius's home. His deep, baritone laughter reverberated inside the empty halls as his cousin sat next to him, retelling each other apparently funny stories of their childhood. Pitiful.

Unfortunately, it's against any sort of moral code that I have buried within me to punish her since as she was not mine. I'd tell Lucius, but he would just be awfully dull and plain afterwards towards me. I need him to be sharp and on his feet. Especially now with that…mongrel strutting around his home. He looked like on of Lucius's peacocks with the way he held himself.

I was still very confused (not that anyone needed to know that) as to why this specific man now stood in Malfoy Manor, in my study no less, a big smile seemingly permanently stuck on his face as Narcissa brought him to my study, my cold stare penetrating her back as she left.

His thoughtful eyes glanced over everything and merely raised an eyebrow as he finally finished his assessment.

"Quite done, are you?" I asked coldly, a dagger like smile meeting his own before he erupted into the obnoxious laughter he seemed to carry.

My irritation soared at the man's courage to dare go against my authority or perception of things. He finally looked at me with a straight face as he muttered an apology, a smile still present in his eyes.

"I just thought that your study would be more like a lair." He started, beginning to walk around the room, looking over all of the old tomes stacked on the many bookshelves. "My friends and I always thought that it would be in a dingy dungeon with blood forever smeared on the walls, someone's guts dangling from the ceiling like a proud chandelier. This just seems…disappointing now." He finally said, waving a hand, indicating the room, to amplify his sorrow at his new-found revelation.

A deafening pause passed between us until I couldn't bend my curiosity anymore.

"And exactly why are you here, Black?" I inquired, arms leaning atop the ornate desk sat infront of me.

"For fun, I suppose." He responded quickly, his answer already set. Eventhough I knew his plan was to irritate me, I couldn't help but clench my jaw tightly, teeth grinding together at his choice of words.

"And the real reason?"

He turned his body so that he was facing me, an impassive expression set in his pale face. He waved his hand nonchalantly as he gave in with a long sigh.

"The long story is pretty tedious, and I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate the extensive detail I could go in to of my relations over the years which have led to this meeting, so I will give you the short version." Black finished before he sat down on the high back, leather chair infront of my desk.

The mongrel let a long, arduous pause hang in the air, teasing me with the anticipation of the man's seemingly great revelation.

I could distantly hear a clock ticking away at the back of the study, my ears not completely recognising it as my focus remained solely on the silent man, blocking out any other distractions that surround us (which Black seemed more interested in then continuing his story).

He let out a long, tantalising breath as steel eyes met my crimson own, a grimace of distaste and hate twisting his mouth as the contact was made before he shattered the silence and finally carried on.

"Because of my dear mother's teachings, I could, and still can, spot, even in an immense crowd, a man or woman that's intentions were twisted or were of spiteful beginnings."

My interest peaked at this, surprisingly eager to hear the rest he had to say. Dammit. _My intense curiosity really should've been broken down when I was younger_ , I grimaced internally.

"And so, when I met Dumbledore, I was immediately wary of him."

I cocked my head at that, always assuming up until now that Black was completely devoted to the Order of Bullshit. Apparently, I can be wrong sometimes.

"Throughout my Hogwarts years I actively ignored him in favour of paying more attention to my friends and," he coughed awkwardly at this moment, "other things."

I could feel my eyes widen fractionally at what he was implying. I awkwardly coughed myself before he continued.

"But recently Dumbledick has been screwing up things a little too much."

At this new information I preened, subconsciously leaning forward, Black's true thoughts evidently intoxicatingly enticing. Maybe there are more shadows hiding under the blazingly irksome sun that is Albus Dumbledore. Shadows are good for me. Though Black will be hard to recruit, if I even wanted him close to me.

"And that's a surprise for you?" I sarcastically questioned him, Black raised his eyebrows at me, a scowl deep set in his face at my tone, but he answered anyway.

"I should've seen this coming," he said, scowl wiped off his face, now replaced with a stressed grimace as he ran a hand through his hair, "but I haven't, and it's gotten out of hand." Black's eyes were staring in to my own, but they no longer were cold and full of hatred, they showed a profound tiredness that only came with many sleepless, stressful days and nights. Somehow, I only now noticed the massive bags hanging under his eyes. Though, I suppose that they were probably permanent from his Azkaban days.

"I never wanted Harry to get hurt. I never wanted any of my friends to get hurt." He kept his gaze locked on mine, his eyes now back to the chilling hatred and coldness, "But now most of them are dead. By Dumbledore's and your hands."

Surprisingly, a disgusting chill jolted through me at his somehow deadlier gaze. A small weight settled on my chest, an uneasy feeling curling inside me at the thought of Black, someone who clearly despises Dumbledore and his twisted and demonising ways, comparing myself and Dumbledore in the same way, even though I know we are as bad as each other.

"I'll never forgive him, or you, for that." He mentioned dangerously, voice deeper than it was a second ago. I audibly gulped at his tone, but I couldn't comment anything before Black continued with his steely tone.

"Despite my unconditional hate towards you, I'm willing to aid you in your endeavours to destroy Dumbledore, his twisted plans, as well as his less than savoury ideals, and the people that follow him like trained puppies."

So, this meeting was for discussing an alliance of some kind. But I knew if we were to come to any sort of agreement that he would want something in return, he was brought up as a respectful Slytherin pureblood after all (even if he doesn't always act like it).

I raised my non-existent eyebrow at his words, my mouth opening to ask the important questions, 'And why would I agree for you to help me? And even if I did, what do you want in return?"

There was a slight pause whilst Black was collecting his thoughts before he started back up again.

"Cause at this moment in time you're in hiding, trying to gather followers, and at the same time by being in hiding, you're degrading Dumbledore, as well as my godson, making sure that the public don't believe a word that they're saying. So, your agenda is to gather even more followers than before so you can easily infiltrate the Ministry, which, to be honest, wouldn't be hard – I mean, do you know how stupid most of the people in charge are? – and I'm guessing you will want to infiltrate Hogwarts as well."

True.

"And for what I have to offer, well I'm in the Order of the Phoenix, aren't I?" He said cockily, hands moving like it was obvious what he could give me. I debated whether or not to tell him of Severus already being a spy for me, but I then recalled not totally being convinced of his allegiances.

"And I won't try and fight you or your followers unless necessary." Black finished, a smirk creeping on to his face, leaning back in the chair as I, again, raised my non-existent eyebrow at him for his daring words.

By necessary he would mean to keep face with the Society of Idiots. I do have to commend Black for his stupid Gryffindor bravery and impulsiveness to dare come here and betray the Order. It's not something I would normally commend, but it does mean that I can get him on my side. And I remember that he was quite a dueller in the last war. He easily could be a fearful person if given the right training.

"Fine. I accept your offer." I spoke finally, grinding my teeth together to try and hold back the annoying excitement I held because of the prospect of expanding my empire.

Black's smirk blew up more on his face at my answer, now a full-blown grin, as he stood up, I presumed to leave, but alas, like so many times in this one meeting, I was wrong.

"I do have a few conditions though." He pointed out, rather annoyingly. I clenched my jaw at this, temper snapping at the mere thought of these conditions.

"They're not much, I assure you. Narcissa tells me that she has a nice garden, why don't we walk there? It'll be a lot better than this gloomy study."

And with that he left my study (which was apparently gloomy), me begrudgingly following him.

Our walk to the gardens was long, tedious, and extremely uneventful. I took this time to study the man who I thought I knew of. Seemingly, I was wrong (again).

If you looked close enough you could easily make out the hollow features adorning his face, having being whittled away due to the harsh conditions of Azkaban. The bags under his dulled eyes were even more prominent because I noticed them earlier. His body looked severely underweight, almost dangerously. I almost wanted to pester and mother him so he could become the lively, devilish person he used to be) though I'd never repeat this to anyone) before he became this empty shell – a puppet of some sort. Though he didn't want to be that any longer.

It appeared that I had focused on the man's appearance longer than I expected because, before I knew it, we were at the gardens, the delightful smell of roses engulfing my senses.

When I finally moved my attention from the exhausted man, I found myself staring at the beautiful garden. Unsurprisingly, I had never gone in to the Malfoy's gardens before, feeling no need or deep desire to wonder the many paths along the grounds, taking in all of the wonders around me. I've never been that sort of person.

Vibrant, alluring flowers aligning the path that led to a Romanesque fountain, which glistening waters were full of blossoming, pink lotus flowers, their colours complimenting the luscious green of the bushes and foliage around the vast space. Pale pink blossom tress stood at the back of the space, the petals of the flowers littering the stone paths leading to stone benches infront of the trees. Dazzling purple peonies standing tall and proud near the fountain. Other colours popping out next to the basic green of the trees or the grass.

A small childish feeling of excitement and a surge of desire to run through the garden, begging to pick the flowers and smell them consumed me, my feet absentmindedly moving me forward without me second guessing it. The thoughts and desire clouded my mind, making me not able to think rationally, as I picked up a flower and brought it up to my nose. Wait, what?

My thought was clouded as the smell of the beautiful flower flooded me. I was so focused on my childish feelings that normally wouldn't belong to me, that I didn't notice the shocked expression Black adorned. By all accounts it seemed that my mind and magic was so enraptured by the plants that all grasp on spells that I was feeding had abruptly stopped, causing a glamour I had held up to fall, giving away a secret that I guarded closely – and revealed it to Black of all people!

This was going to be really fun.

"Holy shit." I heard behind me.

* * *

Hermione's POV:

I sighed as I opened the door to our room, a grimace tugging my lips as Harry glared at me from his bed. He was obviously still angry. I don't blame him.

"I'm sorry," I uttered to him, nervously chewing my lip as my feet slowly moved forward. Him looking at the window, ignoring me, made me feel worse, again, I don't blame him for ignoring me. If he did that to me I'd hate him for a time and ignore him for a little bit.

The anger reflecting in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. I knew that Harry was extremely dangerous, but the raw emotions in his eyes showed his true powers. His emerald eyes had a sharper edge then normal, almost dagger like, cutting through anyone that dared to look directly at them. For some reason, and quite abruptly, a small voice in my mind said that he reminded me of a Prince that was riled up because of an angering situation.

After I recovered from my shocking thought, I saw Harry staring at me incredulously, eyes glazed with worry as I felt a soft blush tainting my cheeks. I also took a couple of steps back almost falling down the stairs before Harry's arms shot out and caught me by my waist.

"Thanks," I breathed quietly, averting my eyes as I knew the blush deepened as he coaxed me forward so I wouldn't actually fall down the stairs. He gave me a small smile as he went back to his bed and laid down and I followed him into the room and cautiously sat at the end of the bed, searching his eyes or body for any tension or dislike towards my movements. Thankfully, there were none.

"I am actually sorry," I continued the conversation (well, my rambling) I tried to have earlier, "you have every right to be mad at me, I don't blame you at all, if I were you I'd probably never talk to me again. My annoying, insane, and most likely too good view of the world that adults and authority figures and their words should be followed stopped me from contacting you. And I can't even begin to imagine how awful your summer must've been, I mean stuck with them and-" I rambled before Harry stopped me with his breathy laugh and his words that got tangled with that laughter.

He slowly lent up against the headboard to look at me, fondness now back in his eyes. "It's alright, really." He spoke quietly but earnestly.

I opened my mouth to protest, but his hand on my arm made me stop as he smiled at me sweetly.

"I just…feel left out, I guess." I nodded in understanding at his words, again, understanding how hard it must've been to not have been told anything. "No one's telling me anything about Voldemort or what he's doing, and how am I supposed to fight a war which I know nothing about?" Harry finished in an angered huff as I subconsciously moved closer to him, a sound of understanding making its way out of my mouth.

"But that's the thing, Harry," I started cautiously, "Voldemort hasn't been doing anything." At his confused expression I hurriedly continued, wanting to explain everything to him in great detail. "It's like his plan is to lay low, do nothing whilst…whilst the Ministry slander you and Dumbledore." I nervously chewed my bottom lip during my pause as Harry processed everything.

After it was obvious that he had we sat in a comfortable silence, revelling in each other's company without any hostility present anymore. We listened to the sounds of trains going through London, the faint sound of people walking drifting through the window.

"You don't have to fight in the war." I said suddenly, wanting to talk about this topic. Harry looked up at me, eyebrows furrowing at my words. He shifted uncomfortably, averting my gaze as I continued.

"We could run away. Grow old." I stated, trying to get him to look at me, the hot, stuffy summer air filling my lungs, clogging them up with the emotions now stirring in the air between us. A soft ringing sound buzzed in my ears, a simple hum of the season enveloping us, making me forget the dangerous situations drowning us in the murky waters, forcing us to blindly jump into the unsettling water, making it easier for us to be killed. I didn't want that. Shear panic rose in my chest with every shaky breath I took, seeing in Harry's eyes that he wanted nothing more than to run away from it all.

"It wouldn't be hard." I continued steadily, hand entwined with Harry's, both of us staring at our hands, a thick air now hanging between us. I felt his eyes wonder up towards my face, trying to gauge whether or not I was invested in what I was saying. My mind was telling me that it was a good idea – to get away – because of a small segment of me that protected me from dying and making sure I wasn't seriously injured – my self-preservation. That mixed with my strong intelligence became a deadly spiral of thoughts of escaping it all, leaving everything (and everyone) behind. I knew that deep down Harry had a Slytherin streak, like myself, which encouraged his self-preservation. Our thoughts dancing with each other, egging each other on, created a single spark of glimmering hope which, at any moment, could light a wildfire in our sharp minds, forcing us to make a detailed plan to set off – to leave the harsh conditions of a brimming war.

"We can't." He protested rather weakly, eyes not meeting mine as I was now looking at him like he was at me beforehand, back to staring at our hands, his thumb rubbing soothingly against the back of my hand. "We'd be leaving everyone behind."

An understanding hum permitted from my lips, understanding the deep connection to Sirius and Remus – his family – and the betrayal that would eat away at him if he left them. I understood that feeling all too well. Leaving my parents behind every September used to set me on edge quite a lot, sending me in to a mood for around a week when we got to Hogwarts. I always felt that somehow, I had betrayed them by being a witch, that it was my fault that they were going to be a bit lonely with my absence, but I eventually got over that feeling last year, realising that my friends needed more attention and emotions being focused on them then my parents (especially with the Triwizard Tournament).

Harry was there, then and now, and I knew how much trouble he would always get in. Harry was someone I wanted to focus on, he could easily distract me form any sort of guilt that was festering inside of me at the thought of my parents. Whether he distracted me by asking about the books I was reading (which is sweet of him as I know he doesn't actually enjoy reading a lot of the books that I read), leading me to recount something amazing I learnt over the summer, leaving a big, goofy smile on his face as well as mine, or whether he distracted me by talking in the middle of a starry night by the warming fire in the Common Room, talking and giggling about anything and everything.

"With everything, you know we can't run away."

I sighed dejectedly, knowing before I even suggested anything that we could never run away. Especially with school coming up, and Harry's hero complex so he felt the need to fight in the war.

"We're stuck in the middle of this war, Hermione," he said softly, me meeting his gaze, "and to get out of it would probably create more mess and dysfunction than the war already has. Besides, it's hardly like Voldemort is going to let me go without being killed. It's almost like we're meant to kill each other." He finished a little solemnly, a grim expression on his face.

"It would be hard to run away, just the two of us." He explained with his hands emphasising his words. "Ron…" He trailed off, eyes quickly darting to the door, almost like he was worried that the boy would walk in at any minute, the sun reflected in his beautiful eyes as he looked back at me, a soft smile gracing his pale face when he looked back at me – almost an apologetic smile (probably about brining Ron up, remembering the talk we had before we left Hogwarts for the summer).

 _The warm sun peaked through the window, the curtains partially covering the wide span of the glass. I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed my worn books to put them in my trunk before huffing, silently cursing myself for staying up late last night reading by the fireplace, and deciding not to pack instead. A yawn escaped me, collapsing on to my bed next to my trunk, cursing myself, again._

 _I heard a soft, gentle knock at the door and I got up to answer it, extremely surprised to see Harry standing in the doorway. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, confused at how he got up here, but seeing his broken eyes made my face soften immediately and open up my arms, to which he practically fell in to._

 _I pulled my arms back from around him, and led him deeper into the room, and sat him on my bed, tears filling his eyes._

" _Oh, Harry." I breathed, pulling him into a hug again, comforting him more, the annoying stress and hate for myself for not packing shoved at the back of my mind, my focus now fully on Harry as he choked on a sob._

 _He eventually pulled back and wiped his eyes hastily with the sleeve of his robe. I rubbed his back soothingly, a sad expression on my face as well._

" _Is it about Cedric?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to set him off. He violently shook his head before hesitantly nodding. My eyebrows furrowed again because of his denial and then his affirmation._

 _He straightened up and stopped leaning on me, and took a deep breath to even out them, before he began to speak._

" _Ron, he…he caught me crying last night and…and he said that…that I was probably guilty for killing Cedric. And I couldn't help but think about it this morning when he ignored me and decided to hang out with Seamus." Harry croaked out, tears returning to his eyes, but a new flame of anger (most likely towards Ron and his stupid idea) was sprouting between the sadness and sorrow._

 _I huffed, irritated, at the audacity of Ronald Weasley. I wanted to do nothing more than stomp down to the Great Hall – where he was probably stuffing his face – and to scold him exponentially before giving him a fierce lecture and rant infront of the entire school, proving a strong point. He vexes me to no end! Combined with his abandonment of Harry earlier this year, it tipped me over the edge._

 _With the heavy, boiling air intoxicating my head and creating a pounding headache that was going to fuel my already big irritation. I was seriously considering slapping him harder than I slapped Malfoy._

" _We are we friends with him?" I asked rather dryly and got a shoulder shrug in return. I huffed again, trying to calm myself down. How can someone hate Harry? He's had such a bad childhood. And he clearly doesn't want the fame, but Ronald seems to always ignore that. His jealousy consistently gets in the way of things, blinding his view of the world, and that jealousy gets turned into anger. He wasn't a good person to be around sometimes, and being around Harry seems to set him off and upset him._

" _Bloody bastard." I whispered, and saw Harry revealing a small smirk on his face. He let out a small laugh as well as I began to laugh at the small stupidity of the situation, ending up us both laughing a lot as I got up from the bed to continue my packing whilst Harry lied on my bed, deciding to not help at all it seemed._

" _Having fun there?" I joked at him after a couple of minutes of getting stuff ready to pack._

 _I grin split onto his face as he said, "Quite a lot actually."_

 _A comfortable silence settled between us, the sun showering on Harry as he moved the curtains back a bit to let the warmth engulf the room._

" _I don't wanna go back to the Dursley's." I looked up at him, a little bit abruptly, and a sad expression flittered across my face._

 _A sudden, impulsive plan came to mind. "You could always stay at mine."_

 _He looked back at me, shock beautifully written on his face (WHAT?), eyes glimmering with the hope of escape._

" _What about your parents? Won't they mind?" Harry asked mindfully, biting his lip._

 _I hadn't really thought about that section of the plan, unusual for me, and created most parts of the plan on the spot._

" _They won't mind, they've been dying to meet you since I started talking about you in first year." I said easily, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly, a blush creeping up onto my cheeks as I realised what I had said._

" _So, you've talked about me a lot to your parents?" He asked cockily, a full-on smirk now on his face. Grr. Why does he have to do that?_

 _I muttered a small shut up as he laughed at my sticky predicament. A silence came again and it lasted for a few minutes, and I assumed that Harry was going to go along with my idea of staying at mine, apparently, I was wrong._

" _I can't stay with you, 'Mione." He conversed, a sad smile on his face as he came over to me._

" _Why not?" I practically whined._

 _At my tone a real smile crept up on his face, not used to that tone from me, before he spoke again, "I don't wanna intrude," he quickly continued when he saw that I was going to protest, "and Dumbledore will go off on me if I don't go to the Dursley's."  
_

 _A frown was now on my face because of his words, and I was a little disheartened by his denial of my invitation. A new surge of frustration bubbled within me because of his reasoning._

" _Who cares about Dumbledore and what he thinks?" I snapped, a new feeling within me (was it a streak of rebelliousness because of the difference from my usual following of leaders? I'm not sure), Harry stepping back in surprise._

" _I know what they must be like, Harry, and I don't like you staying with them, not one bit." I stated passionately. "And i don't particularly like you staying with the Weasleys, and not just because there's hardly enough space for all of them without us staying there, but also because of Ronald."_

" _You don't really like him, do you?" I heard the smirk in his voice without having to turn around from my packing activities._

 _I huffed for what felt like the millionth time that day._

"You two alright there?"

We both gasped before jumping off the bed and separating our hands as we saw Sirius poking his head round the door, an eyebrow raised at the two of us.

"Y-yeah." Harry managed to stutter out, a blush on both of our cheeks.

Sirius made a noise of disagreement before he opened the door fully and paused. After he looked us up and down, he beckoned for us to follow him. I looked to Harry but he just shrugged in return, clearly not knowing what was going on either.

We followed the man down the rickety stairs towards the drawing room where I cleaned about a week ago, I remembered it because of the massive tapestry of the family encasing the old room, Harry and I shared strange glances with each other because of the bizarre situation. Many people tried to push past us on the stairwell, some Order members whilst the others were Weasleys (like Ginny and the twins) and I felt relieved that Ronald had seemingly decided to stay away from Harry and by extension me. Sirius was obviously becoming more and more exasperated by the stoppings we were getting on the way there, though it was mainly the twins that took the longest (though Sirius seemed to perk up a bit when they stopped to talk to us, I think he really liked them two) but Mrs Weasley and Sirius shared a few barbs after Fred and George left to go create havoc somewhere in the house. Mrs Weasley was grating my nerves as well. I talked to her about Ron and she defended him, saying that Harry was in the wrong and had lied to me. This response gave me the clear notion that she didn't like what Harry told us at the start of fourth year. It disappointed me every time she made it obvious that she didn't like that he was bisexual. It set me raging that she could love him less because of it. That woman even looked at him differently. Of course, Harry didn't really say anything about it, though I could tell he had noticed it and was sad about it, but also angry. I don't blame him for that. Apparently to Mrs Weasley it was a good enough reason to love him different. Rubbish.

But I was dragged out of my thoughts as Sirius opened the door to the dusty room (Mrs Weasley was going to have a field day about it if she found out).

Sirius checked to see if anyone had seen us or could interrupt us.

After he had done that he turned to both of us and motioned for us to sit down on a dust-covered sofa, a cloud of that dust jumping in the air as we ungracefully sat down.

The older man then picked up one of the grimy chairs from a desk tucked away in the corner with ease, and sat it down infront of both of us.

"So, I went on a fun day trip today." Sirius basically squealed, a huge grin that looked like it brightened the room.

Shock was all I could think of when he said that, and before he could explain himself I burst. "Why?!" I shrieked. "You could've been seen!"

Sirius seemed a little shocked when I screamed at him but he then burst out laughing at me.

"Don't worry, miss," he mocked, "I didn't get seen by someone that shouldn't have seen me, so don't worry."

I huffed dejectedly as I leaned back into the sofa, instantly regretting it because of the uncomfortable, dirty feeling that flooded me as I felt the dust cling to my clothes.

"So, where the hell did you go?" Harry interrogated him, the same blazing grin breaking out on Sirius's face.


End file.
